


Good Fortune

by Abyssia



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, seemingly one sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25681303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abyssia/pseuds/Abyssia
Summary: After Linhardt procures from Marianne some very well-grown vegetables, he decides to experiment a little with how to relieve the tension and desire that wells up whenever he finds himself near her.(written for Wank Week 2020)
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Linhardt von Hevring
Kudos: 11
Collections: Wank Week 2020





	Good Fortune

Holding the length in his hand; it feels surprisingly hard and firm. It’s healthy and stout with an impressive length and a gentle curve to it. LInhardt’s fingertips examined its taut skin, appraising the bumpy texture as well as its smooth surface. He had washed it thoroughly and so now it glimmered in the light.

It was a perfect cucumber specimen.

Despite Marianne’s trepidatious approach to just about everything, she was relentlessly diligent in her plant tending. Even though she tried to avoid tasks that would mean that she potentially impacted someone else’s life, her skill was undeniable.

And so, it was a shame that the fruits of her labor so often went to waste.

Linhardt sighs, letting his eyes fall closed as he settles back into his body. Seeing Marianne, especially speaking with her always left him with a certain kind of thrill. Perhaps others might find the dark circles under her eyes to be a damper on her beauty, but Linhardt doesn’t even notice. As physically beautiful as she was, Linhardt was largely drawn to different aspects entirely.

Although at this exact moment, her physical beauty is what lingers on his mind. The way the sweat made her bangs cling to her forehead and cheek,delicate hands and how her chest obviously strained against the lapels of her blazer. The fact that she chose not to wear a less restrictive alternative uniform spoke to her modesty, or perhaps her shame.

Linhardt groans and clenches his thighs together, adding to the heat that had already sparked between his legs. Thinking about her shapely fingers had sent a rush of heat directly to his clit. And due to this level of arousal, Linhardt was now considering the firm vegetable in his hands in a different light.

He lets it rest briefly on his chest and works to start wriggling out of his pants. Once he gets the baggy trousers free, he then quickly adds his undergarments to the pile. With another groan, he traces his own slender fingers down over his pubis mons to where his clit throbs between his folds. Already he is quite aroused and considerably wet, but he knows from experience how it is always best to be completely sure.

But despite this, the yearning to sate this ache is unrelenting.

Linhardt then plucks the vegetable from his chest and quickly places it between his folds, over his entrance, trying to pick upas much spare lubrication as possible before sliding it upwards to rub against his clit.

Linhardt now positively moans, his toes curling and his back arching. He massages and circles his clit with the now slick bulbous end, thrusting his hips against the motions of his own hand.

“Marianne….Marianne—!” he gasps, sliding the tip down to his entrance again and giving a tentative push. No, not ready yet. He groans in frustration, moving the vegetable back to continue circling his clitoris.

He bites his lower lip. He doesn’t quite feel like groping around his room to wherever his oil bottle might have rolled to. And so instead he decides to rely on his vivid imagination once again.

He thinks about what might be like if she allowed him to touch her, to bring her to happiness with his own hands. He imagines the sensations of his cunt to be instead hers, warm, wet and inviting. Only once had he glimpsed Marianne’s blush, and oh how he yearns to see her face filled with heat and pleasure.

Linhardt curls his fingers inside himself, working and feeling himself loosen as the images cause him to gush more fluid over his fingers. “Marianne...” he moans again, swapping rapidly to imagining Marianne’s fingers inside him now.

He then pulls his dripping fingers out, placing them into his own mouth to lick them clean. He wonders how Marianne would taste. Would it be the same? Or would she have her own unique taste and smell that he could drown in.That thought alone is enough to send another wave of heat through his clit and he finally feels ready.

If he can’t have Marianne; something that was nurtured and given life by Marianne’s love and care is enough for now.

Linhardt then slides the cucumber down again, finally finding himself to be completely loose. With a sigh he lets it slide inside.

“Ahhn~” he moans and clenches around the rounded tip, finding it to be a surprisingly adequate dildo. But primarily; the thoughts of Marianne continue to fan his flames. She deserves so much more than she allows herself; and Linhardt can tell that his feelings aren’t getting through to her. There’s no point in allowing this desire to turn into guilt. Not while he can imagine her flushed features and her soft skin as he pushes himself into higher ecstasy.

He thrusts as hard and fast as he can, angering sharply upward and gridding his hips in response. “Marianne—! Marianne— Ahh— Ahhh~!!!” he bucks his hips one final time as his walls clamp down around the length, his fingers of his other hand rubbing his clit as he finally crashes into orgasm.

With heavy breathing, he lets himself descend from the high. Doing that little bit of garden work had really exhausted him. He lets it just rest there, enjoying the idea of anything related to Marianne still filling him up.

At that moment however, Linhardt suddenly hears a rather timid knock on the door.

“Who is it?” Linhardt gasps, wondering how long his visitor had been waiting there outside his door.

“Ahh— uhm!” Marianne’s stammering voice comes through his door, sending a flash of heat again through his still sensitive nethers.

“Marianne? Do you need something?”

“I’m—sorry I…” he hears her take in a deep breath. “You left your book in the greenhouse!”

Linhardt looks down, knowing that he has no way of making himself presentable in any sort of immediate timeframe. “You can leave it out there for me to pick up.”

“Oh-okay!” Linhardt hears her place the book on the doorstep and then turn to walk away.

“Marianne?”

”Y-yes?” she replies, her voice so soft he could barely hear her.

“Did you perhaps hear me just now? Shouting your name while I—“

Marianne lets out a squeak and he hears her suddenly scuttle away, to whence, he knows not.

Linhardt lets out a sigh, finally relaxing enough that the cucumber slides out from inside him.

That same jolt of fear enters him again, the idea that she might find his feelings to be unwelcome or repulsive. But that worry is overridden by the feeling of satisfaction that she had in fact heard him. Hopefully, hearing Linhardt scream her name in the midst of orgasm would be clear enough. And so now he feels sure at least, that Marianne knows how he feels. And so when next they meet he can likely find a way to solicit wether or not it is requited.

But even if his feelings aren’t returned, he still has the memories of her, and a whole basket of her carefully raised vegetables to enjoy to his heart’s content.


End file.
